


Doggie Style

by phantisma



Series: Keeper Verse [22]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-30
Updated: 2007-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-13 13:36:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantisma/pseuds/phantisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A month or so after the conclusion of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/503683"><strong>Hunter Becoming Hunted</strong></a> ....so...Sam's cooking up a little dinner...and Dean comes home...and sex ensues...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doggie Style

The house was too quiet. It made him nervous. “Sam?” He put down his coat and was greeted by an overly enthusiastic Aristotle, bounding in from the back of the house. “Hey girl.” He scratched behind her ears to calm her down. They’d been back a month, but the goofy dog hadn’t calmed down yet. “Where’s your Daddy?”

Aristotle nuzzled his hand, then scampered back toward the kitchen. Dean followed, smirking as he realized her every step left a trail of flour behind her. He stopped in the doorway with a smile on his face. Sam turned, surprise written all over his face…along with a fair amount of flour and …well, Dean wasn’t sure what the rest of it was. “You’re early.” Sam said and Dean chuckled.

“Yeah…thought I’d surprise you.” He could feel the touch of Sam’s thoughts, like a caress, and he leaned into it.

“I was…cooking.”

“I see that.” Sam wasn’t really the cooking sort. He was more the order in sort. “Was Aristotle helping?”

Sam frowned at the brown lab sitting and looking up at them with melted chocolate eyes. “You could say that.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“I…just…wanted to.” Sam said. His eyes tracked Dean as he came closer, Dean could feel them move over his face…down to his hands, still dirty with grease. “Dana’s staying with Beth tonight…She’s helping Dana get caught up.”

“So…it’s just us?” Dean lifted his hands to pet down Sam’s shirt, leaving grease marks alongside the flour and spattering of gravy and who knows what else. Dean knew that Sam loved the smell…loved to see him dirty.

Sam nodded, his smile wicked. “Just us.”

“Hmmm…just us…here…alone…in our house…in our kitchen…”

He had Sam trapped against the sink, and he could tell that just the things he’d been thinking had Sam hard. Dean pressed into him. “Want you.”

“Here.” Sam breathed, his hands on Dean’s waist. “Want it here.”

Their mouths slammed into a kiss and tongues twisted around for dominance before Dean pulled off, his lips moving to Sam’s ear…”Want you to fuck me, Sammy…want to feel you inside of me.”

Sam groaned as Dean nipped at his ear. “Yeah…” _Dean._ Sam moved them, turned them, his hand working Dean’s zipper, his belt, his hand inside Dean’s boxers even before Dean could get them down. Dean’s stomach skin pinched a little as he was pushed against the counter…and he pushed back against Sam, because he was too slow and it had been too long since he’d been strong enough for this…for more than the gentle slide of bodies…

“Sam…”

“Yeah…hold on…” Sam reached over Dean and turned off the nearer burner…then Sam was there… _there_ …inside him…inside his body, inside his head…wrapped around him and Dean gasped.

“Holy fuck!” Dean braced himself on the counter as Sam thrust hard into him, jerking both bodies violently.

“Don’t know about the holy part.” Sam grunted… _Missed this_

Dean hung his head and pushed back, moving up to his tiptoes to make it easier for Sam. _More…need more…_ Because it wasn’t enough…not nearly enough.

Sam pulled him back, managing somehow to walk them both backward and keep his dick inside Dean…which was freaking hot when he thought about it….then Sam was dropping onto a chair, pulling Dean down onto him, impaling Dean deeper still until Dean groaned. Sam rocked a little with his cock buried inside him, then his hands settled on Dean’s hips, encouraging him to move. _So fucking hot…_

Dean flexed his thighs and braced his hands on Sam’s thighs before leveraging himself up, then sliding back down. _More…god….Sam, more…_ and Sam’s hands were bruising they were holding him so tight, and the heat of him against Dean’s back was like a pillar of flame…and the images and thoughts rolling through him from Sam only added to that…and Dean was so **not** admitting to that sound right there. _More…_ and then they both knew…what more meant…what Dean wanted, needed…Sam slammed him down hard onto his cock, his tongue licking a long line up Dean’s spine, his hand fisting in the short hair on Dean’s head and wrenching it to the side, his teeth sliding over the corded neck muscles as he pushed them up and out of the chair.

They pushed forward, down to the floor with a crack of Dean’s knees against the linoleum. Dean caught himself on his hands, and Sam covered him, holding himself fully inside Dean for a moment, holding Dean’s head to the side while he nipped and licked and sucked at the mark he’d begun with his teeth. _Yes…_

Dean’s eyes closed and Sam’s hands closed again over his hips, pulling…fucking **pulling** Dean off of him and then back on. Dean grunted something that might have been “Sam” or “Yes” or “Fuck” but he wasn’t sure he cared…just…more of this…then Sam closed in around him, his presence, his thoughts, and an almost physical touch on his cock, though Sam’s hands never left his hips. He bit his lip and felt his stomach contract…coming….coming….with phantom fingers of Sam’s wicked thoughts squeezing and stroking and pulling….and Sam’s cock, almost as wicked, strumming against his prostrate.

As the tremors passed and Dean panted…Sam’s hand was back in his hair, fisting almost painfully as he pounded a little harder, slamming in one final time as he came…finishing deep inside Dean. Dean trembled a little under his brother’s weight…then Sam’s laughter pulled him up and out of the sated bliss of an incredibly hard fuck. Dean opened his eyes only to be greeted by chocolate eyes, snout length from his own.

Aristotle mimicked his posed on the floor, her head down, her floured ass in the air…her tail wagging. On the ground in front on him, she’d laid her worn leather leash. Dean shook his head as Sam pulled out of him and worked at righting their incredibly disheveled clothing. “Guess that’s why they call it doggie style.” Sam said with a grin.

Dean bent down to retrieve the leash and shook it at him. “You just watch it mister…or I’ll find another use for this leash.”

Sam only kissed his nose. _Promises, promises._ He turned back to the dinner cooling now on the stove. “Go walk the dog. I’ll finish dinner.”

“Dude, I’ve got come up my ass. You walk the dog.”

Sam pulled him into his arms. “I like knowing you’re out there, talking to Mrs. Peterson with it there…with my come inside you…”

“You’re a kinky bastard, you know that?” Dean laughed.

Aristotle looked from one to the other and barked. “Dude, the dog’s got needs. Go. Walk. Maybe if you’re a good boy I’ll give you your desert _before_ dinner.”

Dean rolled his eyes and snapped the leash onto the dog’s collar. “Come on, Ari, let’s take care of you and leave Daddy to his cooking.” He kissed Sam’s cheek and led the dog out of the kitchen. “Doggie style. Your Daddy is a sick, sick man.” Dean said to Aristotle. Her only answer was a wagging of her tail that traveled to include her entire back end…as if she was in full agreement.


End file.
